A Chance Encounter
by Commanding After Dark
Summary: This was originally intended to be posted on Who Would Win? on a thread about Doomguy(2016) vs Master Chief. I hope you enjoy it and please leave a review if you like it!
1. Chapter 1

**Let's size up both contestants?**

 **Doomguy(2016)**

 _\- This mean man use to be a marine stationed on Earth. After disobeying a direct order from his commanding officer to fire into a crowd of civilians, not to mention punching that same C.O., he was shipped off to the Mars base. This begins the events of Doom which would link into the events of Doom 2. Doom guy would stay in Hell to keep it in check after all was said and done. Eventually the demons would come to fear Doom, giving him the title *Doom Slayer* and collapsing a massive stone temple on top of him. They then removed his armor and sealed him away in a demonic tomb, for they lacked faith in their ability to kill him._

 _\- Doomguy carries a *vast* arsenal weapons to kill his enemies with. Rapid fire plasma rifles, machine guns, shotguns, *super* shotguns, rocket launchers, rail guns, the B.F.G. 9,000, chainsaw, plasma pistol with infinite ammunition and a chain gun with an unmatched rate of fire. For protection, he's packing his Praetor suit which, aside from protection against kinetic force and plasma, is really a mystery as to what it does. We know he can move incredibly fast and has some training in hand-to-hand combat. He also has power-ups that can provide an array of abilities, from explosive punches to invincibility._

 **John-117, Master Chief**

 _\- When John was little he was kidnapped and forced into the Spartan II super soldier program. He would be trained since his induction to be the best soldier one could be and would be trained to have excellent and near perfect teamwork. John would later be augmented through surgery to allow him to use the signature Spartan II armor titled Mjolnir which would multiply his already highly augmented abilities. John would already be in service with his team, Blue Team, when the *Human/Covenant War* began. He survived numerous battles with technologically superior foes and became a legend to the people of the U.N.S.C. and a bad omen to the Covenant. By the end of all of this, John would be around 40 and would have numerous years of experience fighting._

 _\- Although the Halo series features vast array of weaponry fielded across all of its various factions, Master Chief prefers to use human weaponry developed by the U.N.S.C. when possible. His standard load-out usually include the Assault Rifle, a magnum, combat knife, and fragmentation grenades. Master Chief comes armored in Mjolnir power armor that multiplies the user abilities to various extents by being wired directly into their nerve system. His suite, on its own, is resistant to plasma blasts and highly resistant to kinetic energy, but is nigh impervious when his powered shields are active._

 ****FIGHT!**:**

Master Chief had been deployed on a mission to make contact with a U.N.S.C. base that had stopped responding to transmissions. Normally a Spartan would not be sent on such a mission, let alone on their own, but time was of the essence and the ship his was stationed on was the closest to the base. The base's primary goal was researching and developing more efficient fuel sources for U.N.S.C. vehicles and ships. The Spartan had been deployed through a orbital drop pod and had landed several minutes ago. Since that time, he had been exploring the base and looking for any of the personnel.

He had expected many things, for piles of dust and ash to be littering the walkways in rooms or for dead bodies to be scattered about with plasma wounds on them. He had not expected to find odd markings along the walls and numerous gory corpses and blood splatters. He had decided to make his way to the command room. They would likely have access to the security recordings and possibly have an answer to what happened.

Finding the room didn't take long but for Master Chief, it felt longer than it had been. The mutilated bodies had been something constantly nagging at him. He often was grateful to have filters built into his helmet but never more than now. The command center it self was largely empty and untouched, with the exception of a smashed computer it was mostly intact, thankfully the main one had been left intact...

Chief stopped when he caught a glimpse of the screen.,,

The screen was a live feed from a camera over by the landing pads. Of course, the landing pads had not peaked his interest. What had peaked his interest was a man in unrecognizable green armor standing on the pad. Chief couldn't help the thought that slipped into his mind.

 _A survivor..._

The Chief wasted little time and downloaded the security footage. He didn't even bother to look at it, that was something those back in the ship would be best suited for. He needed to get to the survivor and bring them back. With that done, the data secured, and a new goal, he radioed the bridge and informed them of his discovery. They would send a pelican to the base to pick him and the survivor up...

The walk would have taken several minutes had it not been for the Chief's long legs and brisk pace. He reached the door that lead out to the landing pads in under a minute and opened the door. He paused when he took note of several odd corpses laying on the ground. He made sure to get a good look at them, they weren't any type of alien from the Covenant. They, like the other bodies, had been brutally mutilated. He shook his head and made his way to pads where he found the survivor waiting.

The sound of Master Chief's boots must have alerted the "survivor" because they had spun around to face the Spartan. Quicker than the eye could blink, they both had weapons trained on the other. The Spartan had the standard issue U.N.S.C. assault rifle and the man had... a shotgun? The Spartan raised an eyebrow in suspicion at the other green armored man. That shotgun was definitely not one of the U.N.S.C.'s and that armor was definitely not regulation. The thought of the research facility passed through his mind.

 _Just what were they doing here?_

The man started to circle the Spartan and the Spartan them. It was an odd sight to see, a fabled Spartan II squaring off with a non-Spartan. Even so, John felt the need to be cautious around the man. The idea of them being a survivor now less and less likely the more he watched them. They didn't seem keen on talking, so John took the opportunity to progress the situation.

"Identify yourself." He had said, it was quick and to the point-much like John. The man didn't reply, so John repeated the command. Even then, the man showed no signs of relaxing around John. The idea of the man being a possible insurgent project came to John's mind. It wasn't likely but if they had found a way to make knock-off versions of Spartans, then that would be troublesome.

"Put the weapon on the ground." John commanded the man but this time he didn't receive silence as his response. No, instead the knock-off Spartan growled a low and threatening growl at him. John tensed his body, ready to take action, before repeating the command. The same response came but it was louder than before. John decided it would be best to incapacitate the man before it could escalate any further.

He snapped his sights to the mans arm and let loose a small volley of bullets. Those bullets, in response, ricocheted off of the man and in various direction. The Chief paused to take in what had just happened. The man in bullet proof armor only growled before adjusting his aim. As they let loose a a shell, the Chief came to his senses and ducked out of the way.

The Chief leaped up to his fight and pointed his gun in the man's direction. A stream of bullets flew towards the man but he seemed to have summoned the speed of a god. He outran the bullets and before Chief new it, his gun needed to be reloaded. The man took this opportunity to fire a few more shells at the Spartan. John nimbly evaded them before switching to his magnum and firing back. The bullets all found their mark but, just as the last ones, the bounced off his armor. One lucky bullet that managed to hit the man's visor left a slight scratch.

The man switched weapons and pulled out some sort of primitive assault rifle. The Chief ducked behind cover and quickly reloaded his guns. On occasion he would peak out of cover and fire a few rounds at the strange man. The man, as always, outran the bullets before resuming his assault. Master Chief took the time radio the ship and inform them of the ground situation.

" _Is that so?_ "

"Affirmative."

" _Well the Pelican won't be there for a 10 more minutes-_ "

"Sir, if I may." Chief stopped and switched to his magnum and began firing. "None of my current weapons are putting a dent in them. I need something stronger to take them down."

" _Say no more Spartan, I'll have the boys send you a supply drop._ "

-Click, Click-

The Master Chief cursed when he realized his pistol had run dry, *again*. The strange man was back on the offensive. He had put his rifle somewhere and was no wielding a white colored rifle. The gun then let loose a continuous stream of plasma rounds. He ducked between cover and reloaded when he could. Chief stopped behind a large stack of grates and primed a grenade. He waited before throwing the grenade over the crates and peaking out of cover. He was forced back behind cover and his plan worked like a charm.

They were thrown from their feat by the explosion. The explosion was a signal to John to pop out of cover and let loose a volley of bullet into the man. He was specifically targeting the visor but the weapon had terrible accuracy with the distance and angle the visor was at. Almost to quickly for Chief to notice, the man pulled a small pistol out from beneath his back. It looked dangerously similar to the plasma gun the man held earlier. Chief made the connection just in time to duck behind cover. That didn't stop one or two bolts from hit his shoulder and sending his shields flaring.

 _Damn, bullet proof and plasma weaponry. What's next, a rocket launcher?_

Chief through another grenade from cover before firing blindly in the direction he predicted the man to be in. Another explosion, a grunt of pain and the sound of ricocheting bullets. Bullets were getting him no where, he didn't have enough grenades, and the men and women in the ship were taking their sweet time. Chief charged the odd man while they were getting up and punched him across the visor just as he got to his feet. The man stumbled and Chief pressed his advantage.

Another punch, another, another, and another before a kick sent the man skidding back. The man's armor had some minor dents in it from the punches but the man seemed to be winded. Chief darted to get in close but managed to jerk back and avoid the swing of a chainsaw. Chief's eyes where wide as saucers as the man approached him with the weapon ready. Chief tried to back pedal but the man had supernatural speed and caught the Spartan. John ducked under what he could and blocked what he couldn't. Thankfully the chain snapped on the weapon; however, that didn't stop the man from using it as a bludgeoning tool.

The Chief found himself on his ass with the man standing over him. The man took a dramatic pause to crack his knuckles. It was enough time for the Chief to kick the man off himself. The man was quick to respond in kind though and Chief soon found himself soaring through the air, the sound of an explosion reaching his ears. He skidded along the ground before coming to a stop. A large dent could be found in the breastplate of his armor. The area shook violently and, for a moment, Chief had thought the man had punched the ground but when dirt showered across his body he realized the truth.

The drop pod had arrived...

He quickly raced to it the pod, paying little head to the man climbing back to his feet. He ripped the door off and found three weapons of use. The U.N.S.C. shotgun, rocket launcher, and the legendary Spartan laser. He instantly ripped the rocket launcher from the pod and swung around. The trigger pulled and a moment later saw a rocket flying towards the man. The man only beat his chest in response before and explosion occurred. The Spartan held his breath and waited to see the aftermath...

... only to choke up when he saw the tell-tale shimmer of energy shields across the man... How... how was that possible?!

Chief continued to fire more rockets until he literally had no more but the man continued to walk through it...

Chief held grabbed the shotgun but before he could grab the Spartan laser, he was tossed from the pod-a heavy and loud grunt accompanying his flight. He scrambled to his feet and found the man had pulled out yet *another* shotgun but this one looked far more dated than any John had seen before. With little choice, the two dashed to one another with John firing off numerous shots that slowed the man's approach and left sizable dents in his armor. It seemed the shields had been broken by the last of the rockets.

The got close and, once more, the Chief found himself flying onto his back. The force from the shotgun could only be compared to explosives going off in front of you. His armor held up but the gel suit beneath was started to lose considerable chunks. He climbed to his feet once more and the two engaged in close quarters combat again. This time Chief pulled a knife and attempted to penetrate the man's neck.

 _He's no amateur, this is training-not dumb luck..._

Fortunately, Chief managed to make the man stumble by hook his leg. He jabbed the knife in the man's neck; however, he was met with a dissatisfying clink before being shoved off. The sound of jets filled the air but Chief took no notice and resumed fighting the man. The knife had broken, the knife was nearly unbreakable yet it broke against the man's armor. The idea of an insurrectionist version of Spartan's began to become more and more real to John. It was only when John had kicked him away again did the main pull his assault rifle out. A side compartment opened up before slamming closed.

John found himself stumbling back and trying to regain his foot as the bullets exploded on his chest...

... then they stopped...

John looked up and noticed the fake-Spartan was occupied with something else. That something else was the Pelican drop ship which had a squad of O.D.S.T. and marines on board. The were all firing at the man and he, in return, was shielding his visor and slowly walking towards them. It seemed concentrated fire could indeed overcome the man. Though, as Chief watched on he realized the guns alone would bring him down. The man stopped where he was standing and reached behind himself. Then, much to the Chief's disbelief, a Gatling gun appeared behind his back from thin air.

The main pointed it at the men and women surrounding the Pelican and Chief realized his intentions. He made a mad dash to the drop pod, he needed to end it and *fast*. He could hear the familiar whine of a Gatling gun before a chorus of screams and shouts followed. The sound of the Gatling gun began to quickly overpower the sound from the assault rifles as their user were mowed down. Chief reached his destination and wasted no time in pulling the cannon out and facing the man. The man had dropped the Gatling gun and pointed a alien looking weapon at the Pelican...

Then everything flashed green and the sound of crunching metal and explosions followed...

When Chief opened his eyes he saw, to his horror, the Pelican was utterly destroyed. Another flash, some screams all followed by explosions. Chief caught a glimpse of it before shaking of the shock. He took aim and held the trigger just as the man looked to him. The man began slowly pacing forward while reloading the large weapon. Just a few more seconds and the blast would be charged and kill the man.

The man finished reloading...

 _Just a few more seconds!_

The man took aim...

Suddenly the gun was thrown of aim by a brave marine. A large blast of green energy arced into the sky before detonating. The marine didn't have time to process what he did as he was thrown to the ground. He let out a shrill scream before his head was smashed like a water melon. Small streaks of blue light zipped up the dangerous *thing* in the armor.

 _ **Beep, Beep!**_

The Spartan fired...

 _ **SHOOOOM!**_

A flash of blinding light followed by an explosion and the man was laying still on his back, sprawled out on the landing pad. How he was still intact was beyond Master Chief's understanding. The tired and weary Spartan quickly approached the man before stopping once over him. A pained wheeze echoed from the armored man. Master Chief took in the sight before his very eyes.

The dark green armor had been charred black and bubbled along the area the laser had impacted, yet there was no hole. That armor had been powerful enough to endure a shot from a *Spartan laser* and keep the wearer alive. He dropped the cannon to his side, he couldn't afford to damage it anymore. Halsey would want to look at the armor, that was for sure. Instead he pulled out his magnum and reloaded it before looking at the man. The visor had shattered and revealed the man's eyes, his *blue* eyes...

Chief suppressed a shutter...

Then...

Then Chief fired his magnum...


	2. II

.

 **A Chance Encounter**

 **II**

* * *

 _Undisclosed Planet, Undisclosed Solar System, Unknown Time...  
_

Then the Chief fired his magnum...

 **Bang!**

The bullet never reached the man on his back with a shattered visor. No, the bullet had actually ricocheted off the ground next to him. The Chief had been so close to killing the damned man, the mockery of Spartans everywhere. He had wanted to kill the bastard so bad, _no one_ had made the Chief that way before, so... why where they still living? Well, the answer may have surprised you...

Something had knocked them onto their back and that something standing over the legendary Spartan II _was a demon..._

No, not a fellow Spartan II as the Covenant had come to call the breed of Spartans. What stood over the Spartan did not make any sense. It had no place in our world and it looked like something from an ancient religious scripture. Dark, nigh black, skin with a bone white plate over the top of the head. A ripped muscular body that would make a brute envious of them.

The Master Chief scrambled backwards to put some distance between him and the creature. There was no way in hell it could have been human, regardless of how humanoid it appeared. The beast took a deep inhale through its nose before the permanent grin etched into its face seemed to grow larger. It took two steps forward and covered the distance Chief had place between himself and the thing. Then, in the most casual of manners, the beast reached down and grabbed John. It picked the Spartan II up off the ground _by his helmet_ and _with only one arm._ Chief struggled to break the creature's grip on his head, it had not put pressure on his head but his neck was definitely in pain from the strain of his armor.

A few well placed punches weakened its hold on him. A final punch forced it to let go of him and grip its wrist. Chief landed on his feet and looked up as the beast roared at him. If the beast had not been hostile before then it had surely been so then. The Spartan II wasted no time and pulled out his magnum and began firing into the beast. He could see the bullet dig into its hide but the creature did not recognize a single one of the wounds. No, instead it tensed its legs before leaping towards him.

When it crashed down in front of Chief, the shock wave from the impact made him stumble. Just when the Spartan had recovered, the beast swung at him. When the punch landed, he didn't feel anything but a sudden and painful impact. Everything had become silent and he had lost the ability to see. It took less than a second for him to feel anything. The heavy impact all across his body from colliding with the ground and the up turning of dirt. Then, then came the sound...

A deep growl was uttered out and quick thumps preluded vibrations from it running...

Chief rolled backwards and onto his feet and brought his magnum to bare. Several rounds fired at the beast and all of them were ignored. It closed the distance and swung but the Spartan ducked under the swing with ease. He put the barrel of the magnum to the side of the beast's head and let loose another volley of bullets. The closed distance somehow made the bullets more effective as spurts of blood were followed by a roar of pain. The beast dropped to one knee and swiped its arm across, something the Spartan avoided again. The Spartan quickly ejected the emptied magazine from their gun and loaded a new one, prepared to end the abomination.

The snapping of flesh and spraying of blood could be heard by anyone on the landing pad.

The beast's head was suddenly torn into two by a pair of armor coated gloved hands. Blood sprayed, spurted, and gushed from every available opening from the halved head. A pathetic whine was overwhelmed by a sickening gurgle from the dying creature. The body collapsed to the ground with a tremendous thud, all whilst still twitching. Then, from within the demon's body, emerged tiny blue particles. Those same particles quickly zipped to the one responsible for killing the monster. The Chief's eyes widened in both shock and fear, for the mock Spartan stood there...

The tiny specks of blue zipped to the armor before sinking through it. The effect was instantaneous for man in the ruined armor. Like something from fiction, the armor began to reform over the damage that had been done. The pieces of glass from the old visor fell out as a new one literally grew out of the armor. The bubbled and melted armor covering the chest began to fall off in flakes, like leaves in Autumn. The paint also seemed to spread and cover the scratches were as the dents just unbent themselves. In less than a minute, the vast majority of the armor had reformed.

Chief kept his weapon trained on the green armored scourge but refused to say anything. They did the same and for several moments, they were locked in a staring contest. The other green armored being dropped the top half of the monster's head before stomping on it. The pressure and strength had turn the entire thing into mush. They then did something strange, something unexpected, something that did not make sense when the situation was taken into consideration. They simply turned and moved to walk off the landing pad and away...

" _Sierra-117, come in. Do you read Sierra-117?_ " The crackle over his helmet's radio caused the Spartan to snap out of their confusion.

"I read you Iridescence..." Chief replied into his microphone before walking towards the edge of the landing pad.

" _Sierra-117, we need an immediate update on the situation on ground level. We've lost contact with Gamma Squad and their transport._ " The Master Chief paused for a moment that, while brief, was all telling.

"Gamma Squad is K.I.A. and their transport pelican was destroyed by the hostile contact."

" _Solid Copy, Sierra. What's the status of the hostile contact?_ " The bridge asked.

"Hostile contact is still active and has retreated into the facility. I'm moving to pursue them." Chief explained to the crew of the Iridescence. He stopped at the edge of the landing pad and looked toward the door leading inside of the facility. The door closed with a hiss before Chief could get another look at the armored man.

" _Affirmative, keep us updated on progress and happy hunting Sierra._ " The one manning the radio said before cutting the line and leaving the Chief in silence.

The heavily armored super soldier climbed over the side railing before dropping down. The impact from them dented the floor but it still held, despite being deformed. They made their way to the door before opening it. Inside was nothing but an empty hallway, one that was oddly immaculate for the situation in the facility. The Spartan wasted no time and proceeded into the building to locate the fleeing contact...

* * *

A large room that had been some type of lobby in the past was bathed in red light. The sound of warped voices chanting in an unknown, demonic, language echoed. The shadows of shambling forms that had once been good men and women danced across the walls. The slithering forms of demons sunk into the shadows and the out of sight corners of the room. It was one of the last nests and it was all because of _them..._

The green bastard, the scourge of all demons, the Doom of Hell, the slayer of demons, the embodiment of wrath, the who prevents doom, the doom slayer. There were plenty of names for the being that plagued the minions of sin. None of the titles did them or their presence any justice, irony intended. If possible, the demons would damn the humans in charge of the facility. They had toyed with forces beyond their comprehension and had set the Doom Slayer free...

A mechanical hiss of air was followed by the room flooding with white light. That white light had been man made, artificial, and it had come from somewhere outside of the room. All eyes, from demon to the possessed, focused on the source. The light flooded in from a hallway, in the shower of white light stood a lone silhouette. The figure paused for the briefest of moments before it brought up its gun.

A flurry of bullets were expelled from the barrel and all of them found their mark. The possessed mortals had chunks blown off of them before they collapsed. So swift was the vengeance dealt that the demons had little time to react before most of the deformed mortals were gunned down. They sprung into action the following moment, some of them dropping down from the shadows and others teleporting to the center of the room. All of them were eager to fell the damned one who had brought their birthplace to ruin; however, few comprehended the gravity of their situation.

Another spray of bullets killed more of the charging demons but it did not deter those within their numbers. Few of the lesser demons, the imps, reached the green armored warrior and made to slash at them with their talons. They swung and, like the dozens before them, were stopped by the green man. Those unfortunate enough to have been caught soon found their offending limb broken followed by their neck. Those who stayed at a range faired no better than their short sighted fellows. Bullets danced through the air and punched through the hardened husks of any imp that strayed from cover. Those that had not been outright killed by the wound were crippled to the point of being a liability.

Even so, they couldn't afford to fail and they definitely could not allow the last of the possessed to fall. The death of all of the possessed meant the inability to create more gates to their birthplace. To be sealed off was a guaranteed sentence to death and while demons did not fear death, none of them wished to have to start again. With that in mind, the eldest of the vile creatures in the room made a judgment call that all of the experienced followed. Many of the imps ran from cover to grab one of the possessed, most did not make it across the open room. Those that did grabbed one of the twisted humans and warped away, leaving the foolish to fight the green man. With one last look of malice, the eldest of the demons warped away and did away with any thought of preserving the nest...

* * *

The door to the command center had opened with an audible hiss and had granted access to a green armored warrior. They quickly crossed the room before stopping at the main computer. They learned over and began typing on the keyboard of the computer, their armored fingers making the clacks ever louder. With the efficiency almost that of an expert, they navigated the various files throughout the computer. They normally didn't consider their self a computer person; however, they were in need of answers and they were seeing eye to eye with their company. Their company... an odd term to be applied to whatever they were but they didn't care much for a more sophisticated term. They preferred to keep it shot, clean, and simple as they had been taught in their teachings.

 _ **DING**_

The sound was more befitting of a cartoon show for children and yet there it was installed onto a military grade computer. Accompanying it was a rather colorful and eye catching notification the engulfed the display. It was a box of text, a message, that went into detail about some sophisticated science that he hadn't the faintest clue about. From what he understood, there was a room in the facility that was experiencing equipment failure. A small and ever so subtle smile graced their features at the universe and it's idea of irony before it was replaced with a grim seriousness. While he would normally pass it off as something the inhabitants of the station would have handled in their duties, he knew better. Long gone were the days of coincidental, decades of experience had taught him that nothing was ever a coincidence when dealing with the supernatural. With a few quick taps on the keyboard and some responsive clacks, the screen changed to a camera feed.

The camera feed was of a room, a dark, red soaked, room that had all of its lights disabled. The room was coated in the darkness but such visual impairment did not hide the dwellers from him. Even in the inky blackness on the display monitor, he could practically see their broken forms wiggling and writhing. He could practically hear their sickening whispers, vainly clawing at what remained of his mind with false promises of bliss within insanity. He snorted and smirked with no small hint of sadistic pleasure, for the damned would pay. He would search for that room and enter it, lock-down be damned, and cleanse it of the filth corrupting it... normally. For once, in a great many millennium, he would not be the one to send the damned back to Hell.

Light flooded into the room and illuminated the abominations of Hell, allowing a clear view of those within. The deformed humans and beasts that corrupted them were all a sight to see; however, such things were common in his eyes and did not pull on his attention. What truly drew his attention was the nest centered in the middle of the room, the nest that was composed of dead flesh and evil energy - powered by the tormented. The sight sickened him to the core of his being but he would have little time to ponder the grotesque fascination of the Hell denizens. Gunshots erupted in the room and explosions of blood and flesh occurred across the room.

The imps were surprised, that much was evident by how quickly they were mowed down. It was mayhem, some ran to cover and others attempted to charge the gunman. Neither of them were more successful than the other, those who got to close quickly had their body broken before those at range found entire limbs missing and occasionally a baseball sized whole in their head. It was a vicious cycle of killing and dieing that was in favor of the one with a gun. It was bloody, it was chaotic, and it was beautiful... to him.

He stopped admiring the ruthless efficiency at which the stranger dispatched the demons. He watched them, their form had, until that point, been obscured by the lighting. Their highly precise movements had almost convinced him they were a machine of some sort. Much to his chagrin and the stranger's misfortune, it was not the truth as the Doom Slayer would soon know. The ducked behind cover as more fire balls crashed against the support beam they hid behind.

Movement caught his attention and it drew his eyes to some of the demons. Some had given up fighting the stranger head on and instead chose to do something else. He scowled upon realizing what their intentions were, take the possessed and run. It made him snort at the memories of their bravado and attempts at intimidation because, in the end, they were just as afraid as their victims. It didn't matter though, for just as they knew naught of mercy when slaying the innocent - he knew naught of it when slaying them. Their actions would only serve to delay the end that would be brought to their pathetic existence, he would make sure of it.

The last of the demons took some time to glance at the security monitors in the room. Its gaze linger on them as if it knew who was on the other side, _him_. Then, with a hiss, its form warped and was enveloped by a red light. When the light died out the demon had vanished and with it, the last of the demonic presence vanished. With the demonic power gone, the lights and several other functions within the room returned to functioning order. The small screens of machines immediately turned on and displayed text he couldn't read from the security monitor. The next to reactivate were the emergency lights and then the quick flickering of the main lights. When the lights finally stopped flickering, the room was revealed to be a repair bay for vehicles...

He did not notice that though, for his eyes were centered on the one still in the room. The one looking around the room in confusion instead of chasing after the demonic entities that had invaded the station. The one wearing a mix of green metal and dark mesh combined into a suite that was either the result of a stroke of luck that could only be achieved once in a life time or by copying something. He grimaced when the latest memory presented its self to him, the memory of their battle. His fist clenched and he made up his mind, to find the soldier and personally kick their teeth in... or shake their hand. He would decide whether he was impressed or pissed along the way...

Before he left, he stopped and tapped the keyboard a few more times. The screen was covered with a map of the various rooms built into the station. He smiled before plugging a USB into the first slot he could find on the computer console. A few taps on the keyboard later and some of the rooms were highlighted with a red hue, which indicated numerous technical failures within the rooms. He would have to preform an inspection check on them when he found the time.

In the meantime, however, he had someone he needed to talk too...

* * *

 **Author Note:**

I wrote a good chunk of this a while ago but I lost my passion for writing for a long time. I got back into writing recently and picked up where I left off - the end of the demon scene. I don't know if you can tell or not but yeah, if you then you now know why. Now, I've decided to take this further than a one-shot story and make it a short multi-chapter story. I'm going to be rewriting the initial chapter for this story as I went through and reread it before cringing at the numerous mistakes and errors. It was originally intended for the sub reddit _Who Would Win_ but was too large to post there. Now it's time to respond to some reviews posted here.

 **Neena Amiry:** _wtf bro?_

I think you mean what the _hell_ (wth)... eh?

 **Guest 01:** _Doomslayer is faster stronger and has thousands of years under his belt not just fighting demons he has infinately superior wepons and armor and you have the gall to make him lose u are biased as fuck_

Doomguy may be faster at traveling without a vehicle but he's not faster in hand-to-hand combat. The Spartan reflexes and their suit beat him, sorry, but Doomguy does have more experience over him; however, that experience doesn't help Doomguy as much as you think. Most of Doomguy's enemies don't behave anything like Doomguy or a Spartan from Halo. His weapons are not infinitely superior, such a thing is impossible, but he does have a loot of weapons that outclass Master Chief's but tech never guarantees victory. Master Chief has better training fighting armed opponents and more experience fighting them. I actually like Doomguy more than John but that does not mean he'd win in a head-to-head fight.

 **saitama1155:** _ha doomguy loses ha thats funny_

Well good, we all need to laugh every once in a while.

 **Infected Marine:** _If any of you have seen death battle you would understand why..._

Death Battle is a terrible source for evidence as they are well known amongst debaters for their cherry picking and bias. Please avoid referencing them as it's how wars are started. Thanks for the review though!

 **Guest 02:** _Kinda makes sense because most of doomslayers enemy's were pretty stupid they had no plan of attack only charge in and use brute force. The master chief most likely is better at hand to hand BTW the doomguy usually uses boxing or wrestling he like his enemy's have no plan of attack just brute force yes he might be stronger mabey faster but chief is smarter and has more experience with a wide variety of enemy's he has versed also he is luckier._

Doomguy's enemies are not stupid, arrogant but not stupid. A good chunk of them prefer to brute force the situation because they're built to and we are a human (sort of), so why should they fear us? I don't doubt John is better at hand-to-hand but that's because of reflexes and being able to act on them. I don't know where you read Doomguy was only taught boxing/wrestling but he received training from U.S. marines, he was one, and more because he's possessed by a decades old ancient warrior. I actually think DG (Doomguy) is just as experienced as Chief is but I don't doubt Chief is better with tactical planning and thinking. I don't know if John is more lucky because DG has some pretty amazing luck to still be alive.

 **Guest 03:** _Ah I forgot to tell you that I love feeding on all the reviewers salty tears_

Wait, who's crying? I only saw a few green hulks down there...

 **ZackTheWanderer:** _I don't know about you but if you read all of the Doomslayer 's lore in Doom 2016, you'll know Master Chief has no chance against him(and yes, I'm a big Halo fan, but I've read the Doomslayer Testaments from the 2016 game, and I know the Chief ain't got nothing on him)_

I have not read all of DG's lore from 2016, nor have I read all of Halo's lore concerning the Master Chief. Saying you're a Halo fan actually has the opposite effect when you say John, the main character from Halo, has no chance against him. They're both in the same ballpark of speed and power anyways, so yeah...


End file.
